Table tennis is at the heart of the Games. It is a shy sport, readily played on a dining-room table. You need not even leave home to play it, and yet it is pivotal to this coming-out party. Without ping-pong diplomacy, the trip by the American team in 1971, it is unlikely there would have been the Nixon visit. Without a Nixon visit - unannounced to the public, he showed up in Beijing, where he was greeted by people who had sensed something must be up - it would be odds against this attempt by China to wow the world and compare and contrast themselves against America.

These Games are the antithesis of the last ones hosted by the United States. In Atlanta, 12 years ago, the Americans somehow managed to put on a show that was both careless and careworn. It seemed as if they were beyond the Games, an impression confirmed when New York accepted London's selection as hosts in 2012 without even a shrug. Beijing, in contrast, is home to the Needy Games. Hundreds of millions want them to be a success, want their country to be loved. Those who speak excitedly of global domination are getting ahead of themselves: these Games are about impressing, not oppressing.

The sport at which the Chinese are most impressive is table tennis. They have won 16 of the 20 gold medals since the sport was introduced in 1988 and look set fair to maintain, or even improve, that staggering success rate. China, naturally, has a large pool of talent to draw upon in this most accessible of sports, with the TNG tournament in Tianjin once taking more than a year to complete because there were so many entrants.

In the women's team event here the first seeds were China, the second seeds were Singapore, whose players are all China-born, and the third seeds were Hong Kong, China, all China-born.

The scene at the Peking University stadium on Thursday was compelling: eight state-of-the-art tables were arrayed in a stadium the size of an airport hangar. Looking down on these tables was like watching an octet of Davis Cup matches simultaneously. What's more, these ties would last a maximum of three hours rather than three days.

Despite all the modernity there was still a youth-club feel to proceedings. In one game the ball got lost under the skirting and China's match against Austria (represented by Li Qingbing, Liu Jia, and, throwback, Veronika Heine) was umpired by a New Zealander called Averil wearing a light-blue blazer and slacks. Neither she nor the Chinese had their work cut out as the hosts raced to a 3-0 victory, winning the doubles in a very rapid eight minutes of play.

The game is fast, which has not always been the case. Back in 1936, when Poland's Alex Ehrlich played the Romanian Paneth Farcas at the world championship in Prague, the first point lasted 2hr 12min, the initial referee retiring with a locked neck 80 minutes into the inaction. Finally, after a rally of more than 12,000 shots, Ehrlich clinched a 1-0 lead. It proved to be decisive, as 20 minutes into the next point Ehrlich produced a baguette and a 2ft sausage, and the disorientated Romanian ran screaming from the room. As a consequence, the rules were changed and Ehrlich gained a notoriety that was to save him at Auschwitz, when the Nazis recognised him as the world champion.

A game that was about coping with boredom is now all twitches and glitches, concerned with anxiety. This is apt. At the risk of being glib it is possible to equate totalitarian states with boredom and capitalist ones with anxiety. Where would the money-makers be without status anxiety, sexual anxiety, social anxiety and all the other sundry anxieties? Pretty anxious is the answer. There's no money to be made out of people's peace of mind.

In direct opposition, there is the numbing boredom of living in a totalitarian state, the ennui that follows from not being able to do anything about everything. All Olympic disciplines, but particularly perhaps table tennis, for shy people are nothing if not anxious, combine the boredom of practising all day every day for four years with the performance anxiety of it being over in minutes. Maybe it will be the sport for the fabled third way: ping-pong diplomacy being followed by the ping-pong dynasty.

Back at the tournament, all the excitement came in the men's matches involving what one might call Further China. There was an extraordinary doubles match between Hong Kong, China and Japan, in which the former colonials managed to lose five consecutive match points. Their coach said: "It's a pity we lost the doubles." And the Japanese player Jun Mizutani said: "I told myself not to give up." The understatement and the doggedness, both satisfyingly stereotypical.

The match between Chinese Taipei and South Korea was even better, as the players exchanged zinging shots to create as many olé moments in one Davis Cup tie as you might see in a Wimbledon final. When Chang Yen Shu went into a 2-1 lead against Ryu Seung Min, the reigning Olympic champion, a compatriot journalist shouted: "Unbelievable!" It couldn't last, Ryu bamboozling Chang into an air shot for a very rare ace on match point.

And so to the women's semi-finals on Friday and the Crucible moment when the arena was reduced to one table. Arrayed against each other were South Korea, the last non-Chinese team, and Singapore. It was an epic.

Singapore went into an early lead when Dang Ye Seo lost her first game of the tournament to Feng Tianwei and promptly lost two more. South Korea levelled the match when Kim Kyung Ah, one of the greatest defensive players in the world, recovered to win a match against Li Jia Wei, which lasted nearly an hour, 11-9 in the fifth. At the end, she sank to the ground in prayer, which is quite demonstrative for a table tennis player. "WONDERFUL" flashed up on the scoreboard. It had been a game of olé moments and rallies of 100-plus shots, a near-perfect match-up of contrasting styles.

It proved irrelevant, however, as Singapore re-established their grip in the doubles and, despite Dang surprising Wang Yue Gu, triumphed when Feng won again.

In the other semi-final, China beat their neighbours Hong Kong, China with embarrassing facility. The crowd did a Mexican wave. The PA played Queen's We Will Rock You.

This evening China face Singapore, for whom an exultant Li said: "I am so happy because Singapore has not won a medal in 48 years. We won't win against China." They won't.